


Grandpa, Piroshki and Home

by Pandamilo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Universe, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandamilo/pseuds/Pandamilo
Summary: Home has, and will always be, where the piroshki is.





	Grandpa, Piroshki and Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisiseclair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiseclair/gifts).



> This is my piece for Okaeri featuring the energetic Yuri. I had the amazing privilege of working with glorious Eclair 💜

It had been months since he had returned from Japan. Yakov had worked him to the bone, punishing him relentlessly for running away, as well as asking him to live with Lilia and himself in order to work on his performance and his training. 

Finally, he had a chance to get a few days off in a row and Yuri was determined to return home. His Grandpa was waiting for him at the train station when he arrived and he had to focus on not propelling himself at the old man - Yuri knew his back wasn’t good. 

“Yurochka!” Nikolai beamed at his grandson, hugging him tightly before letting go. 

“Grandpa. I could have caught the bus by myself.” Yuri rolled his eyes, seeing him there - they were meant to meet at the bus station, not here.

“Ah, wanted to see you sooner. I parked the car close enough, it won’t be long and we’ll be home.”

“Fine.” Yuri laughed, letting it slide, honestly he was more than happy to see him a little sooner. “How are you feeling?” Yuri tried to act like he wasn’t really worried, but he couldn’t help it when Nikolai was the most important family he had - his rinkmates definitely didn’t count. 

“Brilliant, of course!” Nikolai chuckled and Yuri really felt like he was home now, that warm laughter filling him with fond memories.

They chatted while they walked before piling into the car with Yuri’s luggage to drive the short distance back home.

“We’ve got three days together before you have to go back to training. Is there something you would like to do, Yurochka?” Nikolai asked.

Yuri hmmed and tried to think about it as they drove, but with the knowledge that he was free for a few days and that he was in the warmth of his Grandpa’s familiar car, Yuri couldn’t keep his eyes open. When they parked, Nikolai only woke Yuri enough to make him walk from the car to the house before sending him to bed.

“But it’s only six.” Yuri huffed while he tried desperately to stifle a yawn. 

“Bed. Now.” Nikolai looked at his grandson pointedly, arms crossed as he waited for him to do as he was told. 

“Ugh, fine.”

As soon as his head hit the pillow and the familiarity of his own sheets, the soft yet hard mattress and the sound of his Grandpa shuffling around in the next room, Yuri lost himself to unconsciousness. 

His dreams felt rushed and frantic, flitting from colours to sounds to feelings in what felt like seconds. Everything was jumbled but Yuri knew well enough by now that he was dreaming and to simply let the chaos pass him by. As if accepting his fate was the key, Yuri found himself on a small swinging bench seat outside the house he used to share with his mother. 

“Don’t worry, she’s not here.” Viktor appeared by his side, a younger version of the man he had seen only a few months ago, hair long enough that it was tucked behind his ear. 

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Yes you were. But it’s okay. She’s never here anymore.” Yuuri sat on his other side, looking at Yuri with a soft smile, brushing a strand of Yuri’s long hair behind his ear. 

“Katsudon? What are you doing here, Pig?” 

“Don’t be rude, Yurochka.” Nikolai laughed. Yuri knew it was him but he couldn’t see him, could only hear his voice, feel the warmth of his presence around him. 

“Why are we here?” 

“Is there somewhere else you would prefer to be, Yura?” Viktor murmured, turning to face Yuri with his usual smile, always too bright. 

“Home.”

As soon as the word was out of his mouth Yuri was standing in his Grandpa’s kitchen. Nikolai had his back to him, whistling a tune to a song Yuri only recognized as the piroshki song. Nikolai always whistled the same tune but only when he was making piroshki. 

“Grandpa?”

“Can you hand me a wooden spoon, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri moved into Yuri’s narrow point of view, handing Nikolai a wooden spoon before turning back to something he was making. 

“What are you two doing together?”

“Cooking, obviously, Yura.” Viktor beamed, is older self replacing his youth now he was next to Yuuri, helping him with whatever he was preparing.

“I don’t understand why you’re here, though,” Yuri grumbled, moving closer to his Grandpa; he loved watching him cook - it was both fascinating and impressive at the same time. 

“Why wouldn’t we be here? You said  _ home _ .” 

Yuri jolted awake, almost falling out of his single bed before he caught himself. 

“Fucking weird old man, even in my dreams.” Yuri shook his head, attempting to clear what he now realised had been the smell of piroshki and katsudon mixed together in that small, familiar kitchen. Fumbling for his clock, Yuri groaned when he realised it was five in the morning. 

Stretching and letting his bones crack into place like bubble wrap, Yuri rolled out of bed and went quickly through a few yoga positions before heading out for a run. Just because he had a small break, didn’t mean he could slack off and if he didn’t exercise the entire time he was here, not only would it hurt like hell to return but Lilia would kick his arse to make up for it. 

Arriving back home, sweaty even in the chill, it was just after six and Yuri could hear his Grandpa moving around the kitchen. 

“Feel better?” 

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry I slept our entire first night together.” Yuri frowned a little, perching himself on the stool at the kitchen bench. 

“Don’t worry. You looked like you needed it. I might have to have a word with Yakov about making sure you’re getting enough sleep. Breakfast?”

“Ha, don’t worry, I get enough sleep. It’s just been busy and I’m a little worn out. But yes please.” His Grandpa’s cooking was the best thing in the world and after his bizarre dream he needed something delicious to start the day. 

“So did you think about what you would like to do while you’re here?” Nikolai asked while he worked, making sure Yuri set the table for them for when it was ready. 

“Would you teach me to make katsudon piroshki?” Even Yuri surprised himself with the request - he had helped in the kitchen before but he had never actually shown any interest in it until now.

“Is that really what you would like to do together?”

“Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t have to be katsudon piroshki. Just… any piroshki would be good. I’d like to know how to make it. Then maybe I could…” Yuri cut himself off, shaking his head - what had he been about to say?

“Yurochka, are you alright?” 

“Just missed your cooking, is all.” 

They didn’t talk much while they ate breakfast. It was one of the things Yuri liked about being home: that he was never really expected to do or say anything. Nikolai had always been comfortable with silences and he knew never to push Yuri when he seemed to be struggling to find what he needed to say. 

“I’ll need to pick up some things if you really would like to learn how to make them. Do you want to stay here or come-”

“I’ll come to the shops with you. I’d like to.” Yuri nodded firmly, washing his plate before he had a quick shower to wake himself up properly and clean the dried sweat from his skin. 

The short walk from home to the shops was easy and Yuri babbled to his Grandpa about his  feelings for his awesome new free skate that he thinks will win him the gold. 

“And how’s Mila, Gosha and Vitya?” Nikolai smiled, always priding himself on remembering names of people Yuri mentioned frequently.

“Vitya is still off coaching Japanese Yuuri but they message me every chance they get… speak of the devils.” Yuri tugs out his phone and looks at the incoming message from Yuuri. “ _ Out for a run - Makkachin says hi.” _ Yuri couldn’t help but snort when the picture loaded in.

It was still dark outside when the picture was taken; on the screen was a picture of Yuuri obviously trying not to laugh at the scene behind him. Viktor was on his knees next to a pole, tears in his eyes as Makkachin looked happily at the camera from his right hand-side. The image itself wasn’t particularly funny - it was more that Yuri could see what had led to it. On Viktor’s left was a pole, Makkachin’s lead wrapped around it and coming around in front of Viktor. Makkachin had gone on the wrong side of the pole then tried to dart back to Viktor’s side, only to trip the old man over. 

“Was that actually Vitya?” Nikolai looked over Yuri’s shoulder skeptically.

“Mm, sort of, it’s Yuuri but Vitya’s in the picture.” Yuri showed the message and attached image to his Grandpa, who laughed at the expression on Viktor’s face. 

“This is why cats are much better.” 

Yuri laughed and agreed wholeheartedly before flicking that exact response in a message to Yuuri. 

When they arrived home, Yuri helped put everything away before they got started on the katsudon piroshki.

“You’re a good teacher - better than Vitya, that’s for sure.” Yuri smiled when Nikolai laughed, having directed Yuri on how to make sure the dough was ready. 

“I bet Vitya’s a fine coach, as long as he doesn’t forget his own skates, I think he’d be fine.”

"That actually happened once." Yuri smirked.

“That poor boy.” Laughter filled the small kitchen that was starting to smell more and more like katsudon as they worked. “So are you ready to talk about why we had to make  _ katsudon _ piroshki for your first proper cooking lesson?”

Yuri scrunched up his face - honestly, he wasn’t completely certain. “I had a dream last night.”

“Mm, what about?”

They both continued to work on their tasks, keeping their hands busy and faces turned away from one another - Yuri could feel the heat in his cheeks. 

“I was sitting on the bench at Mama’s house. Viktor and Yuuri were there. When I asked them why we were there, they asked me where I would prefer to be. When I said home we were suddenly here. You were cooking with the Japanese Yuuri. I think you were making katsudon piroshki together.” Yuuri sighed, satisfied with the finished dough in front of him.

“Does it worry you that Yuuri, and Vitya, I’m presuming, were at our home?” Nikolai asked the question Yuri had been avoiding - mostly because he knew the answer.

“It doesn’t worry me. I just didn’t realise I also considered them a part of what home is.” Yuri silently showed his Grandpa the dough and blushed when Nikolai beamed, patting Yuri on the shoulder like he always did whenever he was proud.

“We need to make the pork mix and rice to put in this now, do you remember the way we used to do it together?” Yuri nodded, thankful that Nikolai let the conversation hang in the air instead of continuing it when Yuri still felt conflicted. 

Cooking over the stove was a new experience for Yuri; Nikolai had usually kept him away from the spitting oil when he was younger and used to ‘help’ with the cooking. But now he was covered in spots of oil from the cooked pork and when they were finally done they had an overflowing bowl of piroshki. 

“Afternoon tea fit for a king!” Nikolai beamed, using a tea towel to fan the steaming bowl so that they could eat one sooner rather than later.

“It’s already the afternoon?” 

“Time flies when you’re having fun, Yurochka.” Nikolai took a piroshok and passed it to Yuri with a napkin before gesturing to the dining table. 

“Yurochka, home doesn’t have to be any one place. This will always be your home; no matter where you are in the world, that will never change. But don’t feel guilty or like you can’t find it in other places or other people. I’m always going to be here.” 

Yuri had never been one for mushy words, even with the person he considered the most important in his life, so Yuri couldn’t really muster up more than a nod and to stuff his mouth full of too-hot-piroshki in response. 

Halfway through his second one, it occured to Yuri that he’d never responded to Katsudon’s failed dog walking Viktor picture, so he snatched his phone off the table and took a selfie with his Grandpa, both holding half-eaten piroshki. 

_You’re seriously missing out, Pig._ Yuri typed out with a littering of emoticons at the end. 

Seconds later his phone rang - Viktor. 

“What’d you want?” Yuri snapped before remembering he was with his grandpa, who didn’t approve of his impoliteness. 

“ _You’re with_ _Dyadya Nikolai_ _! Tell him I said hellooo! Is that katsudon piroshki, Yurio? You made My Yuuri sad - he can’t have either of those things on his diet!”_ Viktor sounded breathless and like he was trying to get out everything he needed to say before Yuri inevitably hung up on him - it had happened in the past. 

“Vitya says hello.” Yuri tilted the phone away from his mouth so he could speak to his grandpa, even if Viktor could obviously still hear him. 

“Hi Vitya.”

“How’s your knees, old man?” Yuri smirked.

“ _Fine, what would be wrong with… YUURI! DID YOU SEND THAT PICTURE TO YURIO?”_ Viktor sounded utterly mortified and in a complete panic as Yuuri’s laughter filtered, half-distorted, through the speaker of Yuri’s phone. 

“ _They are fine. Thanks for worrying about me, Yurio. My hands took the brunt of the fall.”_ Viktor came back on the line; Yuri could practically hear his pout.

“You have to be more careful in your old age, you know?” Yuri couldn’t help but laugh when he heard the whine from the other end of the line before muffled shuffling and Yuuri’s voice came through his speaker. 

“ _Your Grandpa looks like an amazing cook. If we eventually move to Russia, I’ll have to come over for dinner!”_ Yuri could hear the loud ‘me too’ as Viktor tried to take back the phone. 

“I’ll ask Grandpa for you. Bye, Pig.” Yuri hung up on the pair who were probably not even listening to him anymore, anyway. 

“Did you just call Japanese Yuuri a pig?” 

Yuri widened his eyes in fear as he turned back to his Grandpa. He had been speaking in English and had completely forgotten that his Grandpa wasn’t actually ignorant of the language. 

“Umm…”

“Ha! It’s alright. You can make up for your rudeness by doing the dishes for the rest of the time you’re here.” 

Yuri pretended to grumble about it, but really, he didn’t mind. It felt like his normal life - before seniors and Japan - was coming back to him. Part of him missed the strict snaps of Lilia already and the chaos and noise of his home rink compared to the peaceful stillness that he only found here. 

“It’s good to have you home, Yurochka.” Nikolai kissed the top of Yuri’s head, something he rarely did now that he was older, before he helped Yuri clean the kitchen anyway. 

“Me too, Grandpa.”


End file.
